HONK! The beeping squall announces sacrament.
Ruffle of coat as the door becomes locked against the world
With a practiced swirl the coat is laid down over his bag
Puppy howls and purring clucks sing greeting.
Fluffed heads and ruffled butts, affection gifted.
Maybe fifteen minutes then the worship service is over,
He vanishes like an unanswered prayer.
I am blinded by my faith, accept it as my truth
even as I’m told I’m a sinner:
“You do this.”
“This is your fault.”
“You don’t have courtesy.”
“(s i l e n c e f o r w e e k s)”
As I kneel at my altar after giving all I’m able,
it isn’t enough because I’m not whole-y holy.
I am “The Chosen One.” I am “loved dearly, but,”
This church is
beginning to feeling like a silent prison.
I meditate in deep communion to ponder pontificated parole.